Switcheroo
by BlizzardEmmaFoxCat
Summary: AU: Pitch gifts the children of the world with snowdays and frost, while Jack brings nightmares and shadows. Based off a picture seen on tumblr. Also looking to see if anybody could draw a picture for this? Whoever does it can get a one-shot from me.
1. New York's Protector

**A/N:** okay so i saw this amazing picture on tumblr it's just sO SDFJKGHASKLDJHFGLASD I HAD TO DO THIS

**Picture that this was based off of can be found at tumblr user sandbang . tumblr . com (remove spaces).**

**Characters:** Frost!Pitch and Black!Jack, and fancharacters Tanya and Patrick Boho (TFP characters)

Snow fell lightly in the cityscape, covering trees and the sidewalks far below in a white dusting. Kids happily running up and down the concrete, catching the flakes on their tongues, taking some snow off the ground and throwing them in the air again, and trying to make snowballs of the powdery substance only to fail and throw powder at each other.

Pitch stood atop a building, watching the children carefully, standing at ease as he noted how much darker it was getting. The kids were slowly being corralled into their homes, talks of how much more fun they'd have tomorrow, once the snow got a chance to really pile up, and Pitch smiled. He'd make sure to make the snow falling slightly thicker- more packable to make snowballs and igloos and all the other wonderful stuff they enjoyed.

He started to do just that, when out of the corner of his eye something black shoot past the building he was perched upon, and he looked just in time to see it disappear into a window that had trusty Sandman's gold sand seeping into. There was only one spirit he thought of as he had the wind take him to the window that would do this.

He settled down on the fire escape and looked into the room. Two occupants lay resting inside, one a 10-year-old blonde girl and a two-year-old baby boy in a crib. The stream of gold separated into two, going to each sleeping child. Bunny and dog faces danced around the little boy, happily sucking on his thumb. the girl was wrapped in a comforter, and her dreams depicted herself, the baby, and who he assumed was her father and mother. He guessed it was a memory of some sort, because he knew the mother was no longer there. He particularly liked this city so he came often, and he'd watched this girl grow from three-years-old. Around a year ago her mother left for unknown reasons, but it tore her up inside. Every time she'd toss and turn too much in her sleep, he blew some cool air in that was enough to jolt her awake, and get her on a track to some decent sleep.

But tonight was different.

Crouching by her bed was a boy- looking to be eighteen- dressed all in black, a shepherd's hook loosely in his grasp. He reached the staff up and was about to touch it to the sand when Pitch couldn't take it any more.

"Of all the children to choose tonight, Jack."

The shadow jolted and looked over his shoulder, bright yellow eyes meeting bright blue, and he jumped up, holding his staff out in front of him in case of an attack.

"I-I'm not looking for trouble, I-I just follow the fear to where it takes me-"

"But why her? She has already been through enough."

He slipped in and towered above the shadow, the other flinching and scampering to the other side of the room, jumping up and perching on top of his hook.

"You know how it-it i-is for me. Just doing my job."

He frowned at the hooded figure, the full blackness interrupted by the specks of yellow, and used his own staff to gesture.

"I have seen her grow up, her mother ran away and she still is not over it yet. This is the best I've seen her sleep, and I care not for your job. I do not fear you, I will not hesitate to strike."

The shadow was silent until a chuckle escaped him, adjusting to a more comfortable position on his staff.

"What good will it do? You know she won't see you- _just like everybody else._"

Pitch winced at the jab- _because of the truth behind it._

They all walked through him, adult, teen, child, everybody. No matter what he did, nobody was ever going to believe in Pitch Frost.

Another brutal truth was that Jack Black was in the same position, he used to be believed in during the Dark Ages until the Guardians came about. They were equals in their work, and most of the time they tolerated each other- _but Pitch refused to let Jack feed on the fear in her heart._

They stared each other down, neither refusing to move.

A gurgle from the crib distracted the frost for a split second, but it was enough time for the shadow.

He leaped from his perch, taking the staff with him, touching his pale fingers to the gold-turning black at his tips- and was out the window before Pitch could comprehend what happened.

He watched helplessly as the black sand changed the dream, making it into her worst nightmare, her family disappearing and leaving her alone. She frantically looked around before she started running in a random direction.

She groaned and twisted around in her bed, a frown appearing on her face.

Another sound came from the crib, and Pitch saw that the boy had awakened and was looking around with a lost look. A cry came from the child, and Pitch was grateful to see the nightmare break as the girl woke up at the sound. She shivered and rubbed at her arms, standing up and walking over to the crib and lifting the baby out.

"Shh, hey calm down, I'm right here Pat."

Pitch deemed it safe to leave, she would calm the boy down and fall back into a peaceful slumber, and he was going to insure she would.

He left, leaving a frost pattern in his wake upon the window, and directed the wind to carry him in-between the buildings. He locked onto the moving shadow, and brought it down with a blast of powerful wind, knocking him into the side of a hotel and to the ground.

Pitch landed gracefully in the alley Jack had dropped into, the latter giving a gasp and quickly scrambling to his feet a wolf fearling appearing by his side as he stuck his staff out, a mass of shadows clustering at the top.

"I-I told you! An entities got to do what an entities got to do!"

"Do you not have a scrap of mercy anywhere inside your black heart?!"

Bright-_fearing_-yellow eyes were wide in panic.

"I-It's all I know how to do! You should be the one asking yourself that, attacking as I-I go about doing what I was _meant_ to do-"

"And there are lines that are made to not be crossed."

" . . . No child i-is safe. You of all of us should know that."

The fearling howled and leapt at Pitch, him hitting it aside and freezing it to the brick wall, making enough of a distraction for Jack to melt into shadows and disappear into the night.

Tanya awoke to the psychedelic sound of a song on the radio, groggily sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Despite the nightmare, something she'd scarily gotten used to, that had been the best sleep she'd gotten in a while.

She stood up and went to get Patrick out of his crib, bouncing him slightly as she wandered over to the window, studying the frost covering the window.

"Hmm. . . that's weird. This is the third day in a row I've seen some kind of frost design on here." she wondered aloud, watching as her baby brother reached out to graze his fingers against the window, squealing as he drew it back from the cold.

Frost never usually did what happened on her bedroom window, but she liked it.

Helped her believe that somebody was watching out for her.


	2. A Shadow's Muses

A/N: Happy Holidays everybody! Hope you all had a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza, what-have-you! Real quick I'd like to respond to the reviews I got. I only got 5 but they actually mean a lot to me it's ridiculous

Malica15: Thank you! I'm glad you got that from Jack, I was trying to make him kind of like a coward? Like I imagine he'd get cocky but once threatened he'd freak you know?

imntch: Thank you! So glad you like Tanya and Patrick, they're fancharacters for the tv show Transformers Prime, but I decided that they'd be good to fill in here :)

bluephantomwolf: Well, I only have an idea for this chapter and I'm not sure how else to expand it. . . If anybody has requests I'd be happy to hear them! Just send a review!

Himmeh and Jokermask18: Thank you! And Happy Holidays to you too! :)

So now, here's a slightly late Christmas gift!

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He'd always been known for fear.

Even in his past life it was evident. He'd been the odd one out of his village, running around at night, always trying to scare those laying in bed or travelers journeying through the forest. Nobody had liked him, his parents just barely tolerated it. The only one he had loved was his younger sister. She would always scold him and his tricks, but at the end of the day they were brother and sister.

He hated that he had to leave her. One night he had been truly foolish, he'd come up with a nasty trick that HAD to be done.

In the end he'd killed himself, falling through the ice in a lake nearby to the village and drowning. Thrashing around in the cold, he'd never felt more scared in his life.

Though the lake still scared him so, it was a place he could never leave, for many reasons.

All circling around a boy.

The boys name was Jamie Bennett, a bright young boy of nine with eyes that shone with belief. Many a time he'd huddle up by the lake, through all seasons, poring over books and journals, making many excursions through the trees, all to find proof of Santa, the Easter Bunny, Frosty the Snowman, every holiday creature and spirit out there.

One reason was that the boy reminded him of Pippa. The hair, the eyes, even the face; all reminders of the one person he cared for. He used to just stare at him, hidden safely high in the branches, trying to fool himself into thinking that Pippa was in Jamie's place.

Another reason was that he saw him. If it weren't for the boy seeing the shadow, he probably wouldn't have been so obsessed with proving that other spirits existed.

. f . l . a . s . h . b . a . c . k .

"_How are you doing that?"_

_Unsuspecting noise alone caught him off guard, but such a young voice shocked him even more._

_He practically fell flat on his face, scrambling to his feet and whirling around, staff at the ready to face the intruder, only to stare in shock at whom had spoken._

_It was a boy that frequented his grave often, not that the child knew of that, but he came often enough that Jack had started to wonder who the child was, and wonder why he reminded him of somebody long ago._

_The child was startled for a second, before he shyly asked,_

"_I'm sorry I scared you, are you alright?"_

_The shadow blinked owlishly, before dropping his stance,_

"_Y-Y-You see me?"_

_He cautiously took a step towards him,_

"_Can-Can you hear me?"_

_Without thinking he was WAY closer to the child, noses inches apart._

"Do you believe in me?_"_

_The boy stared wide-eyed at Jack for a moment, before he smiled and nodded._

"_Of course. . . but I don't know your name though."_

_The child frowned, eyebrows burrowing in thought in an attempt to remember the shadow's name, only to be jolted at a hand roughly grabbing his shoulder._

"_Black. . . J-Jack Black."_

_He tilted his head, looking into the bright yellow eyes before him._

"_Like. . . the Boogieman?"_

"_. . . Yeah, you could say that."_

. f . l . a . s . h . b . a . c . k .

The final reason was that, despite Jamie seeing him-_he felt no fear from the boy_.

He'd ponder once, twice, thrice, numerous times over on the matter; nobody could believe him and have no fear. It was comparable to believing in the Tooth Fairy and yet have no teeth, believing in Pitch Frost and yet never see a single snowflake in their life. It just didn't make sense.

Jack was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the sound of crunching leaves.

He was sitting on a low branch, and could easily see that the believing-_but fearless_- child was returning, nose buried in a book about Big Foot. With no effort, he flung himself backwards on the branch, hanging upside down by his knees.

"That looks interesting."

Jamie looked up with a start, smiling when he saw the familiar face.

"Yeah it is, it's all about sightings of Big Foot! He was last sighted in Michigan, which is _really_ close to here!"

The shadow smiled at the excitement in the child's voice, hating that he was about to pull him from the topic of interest.

"Jamie, can I ask you something?"

He nodded as the spirit dropped from the branch, landing on his feet, and followed after him.

"Sure, a penny for your thoughts."

Jack fidgeted with his staff, afraid to ask it, but after having gnawed at it in his brain for months on end, he was willing to risk the possibility of Jamie realizing how silly it was to believe in something he didn't feel.

"You see me, b-but. . . you know I'm the Boogieman. A-and what does the Boogieman do?"

Jamie looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"You scare people."

"Right, but. . . I don't f-feel it from you."

"Feel? Feel wh-?"

"_Fear._"

Everything seemed to stop the moment he said that, the wind died and the leaves grew quiet, the lake stopped it's lapping and the birds went silent, almost in anticipation of what was to transpire.

" . . . I-In my entire time of knowing you, I've n-never felt the slightest bit of fear come from you."

He turned to watch the boy, boring into him with his bright eyes.

"_Why is that?_"

Jamie looked at Jack, and he smiled. Smiled a smile that said '_wow-was-that-what-was-eating-at-you?_'

And he simply said,

"I believe in you, I'm just not afraid of you."


	3. Just An Accident

**A/N: Alright, rested up the past few days (Which to me is staying up until 3 am and watching Pewdiepie along with random scenes from ROTG) and I'm ready to come back to this! This is going to be a continuation of the last chapter- and ya'll can blame Malica15 for giving me the idea. I have one more chapter to go along with this arch, and then I'm gonna need some ideas-preferably for Pitch. And please review with some constructive concrit? I just get really nervous when I get so few or no reviews because I have an insane idea that I can't please people and reviews provide so much relief for me.**

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It had been months since Jack had last seen Jamie, and he had a good reason to. He'd done something unspeakable, he'd been so looked down upon the past four months by the Guardians, all other spirits, and even the Man in the Moon for the crime that he'd done.

The silence was deafening, and he knew a minute more of it and he'd lose his mind for sure.

Which is why now he'd gotten up the never to venture near the Bennett home. He was scared of what he'd see- how bad was Jamie now? Had he gotten better or worse? It had only been a few weeks since he felt fear from the household- radiating from Jamie's mother in worry of her son getting hurt again.

And he didn't blame her. He hated the idea of the poor boy being hurt-_then why had he done what he did in the first place?_

He stepped out of the shadows that the fences made from the late afternoon sun, outside of the property of the house. He fidgeted with his staff, hearing the sounds of laughter from the other side. He hated feeling so afraid; afraid of seeing the child and the rebuttal of the actions he was attempting to make. Since the accident, he knew some kind of spirit was keeping an eye on him- whether it was one of the Guardians or a tiny sprite of spring, they'd have no hesitation to go report it to the head honcho; Man in Moon.

He tried to reason with himself, if there was anybody watching him he would've known by now- another action they would not fear taking was attacking him and dragging him back to the suffering silence he'd had to endure. He shuddered at the thought, and finally got the courage to balance on top of his staff and look over the fence.

He took in a shuddering breath when he saw Jamie, running around and playing as if he didn't have an orange cast on his arm-

_-because he'd thrown the boy around, smacking him into trees as he screeched and yelled about the insanity of believing in him __**and yet not fearing him**__ and oh how he'd remembered hearing that arm snap in half and the screams coming from the child as he slashed at him and cut his face leaving patches of blood everywhere and that demented sick joy he'd gotten from finally seeing the __**pain**__ and pure and utter __**fear in the boys eyes**__-_

"Jack?"

Jack yelped and lost balance, falling to the ground. He scrambled back up, grabbing his staff and hurrying to disappear, and all too quickly the fence gate opened up and the child was staring at the shadow.

_And even after all that transpired, there was still no fear in those innocent eyes._

Jack was caught like a deer in headlights, and stuttered words kept leaving his mouth that made no coherent sentence and he didn't want to hurt the boy didn't want to face that screaming silence again but then Jamie ran up to him and _hugged him._

He froze up and held his arms away from the child because he was afraid of hurting him again and the cast pressing into his back was only scaring him more because he felt what he'd done to him and he couldn't shove the other away because _he knew he was going to hurt him again_ and thankful the boy pulled away to look him right in the eyes.

"I thought I'd never see you again, I was hoping you'd come see me at the hospital, and then I was wondering if I'd have to come find you-and I tried to! I looked by the pond for a week but I never saw you there, so I thought you didn't want to see me again-"

"_Why?_"

Jack tried to calm down his erratic breathing, looking down, to the side, and back up to Jamie.

"I-I-I h-hurt you, are-aren't you even sc-scared a bit?"

The boy shook his head no, and the shadow gulped before he asked,

"Then _why_?"

Jamie looked down at his cast, rubbing a hand over it before shrugging and saying.

"It was just an accident, and I guess it was alright for you to be kind of angry-you know having me believe in you and not be afraid of you-kind of like if my Mom paid for a pizza but never got it. It makes sense. And you were hitting the trees before, I just probably got in the way or something, it's kind of hard to remember now."

Jack winced at that-he had tried releasing his anger at the trees before harming the boy, but Jamie hadn't accidentally been in the way of his nightmare sand.

_He'd purposefully attacked him, for not fearing him, screaming at the child how he should fear him because he was Jack Black-The Boogieman-and he'd hated how he had smirked down at the battered and bruised child and whispered to him 'So Jamie, _are you afraid of the Boogieman_?'_

He hastily stood up, backing away from him.

"I-I better go, pr-probably in enough tr-trouble coming and s-seeing you."

He turned to go, but was stopped by a small hand tugging at the back of his black hoodie, and hesitantly looked over his shoulder.

"I'll see you again. . . right?"

Hopefully brown eyes stared at uneasy yellow ones, and the shadow found himself nodding.

Jamie smiled and waved goodbye, going back into the safety of the fences at the call of his mother, and Jack felt jittery until he was miles away from the child-thanking and cursing whatever magical entity had blessed and tortured him with a fearless believer.


	4. A Spirits Trial

A/N: Annnnnnnd here's the next one. I decided to do it from Pitch's POV cuz I hate how he hasn't gotten much spotlight sorry sweet bab. Also fancharacter in here again hahaha it's not Tanya, it's my own character I've been thinking up for ROTG. This is crazy early because inspiration and my mind is just one sick thing and enjoys writing twisted stuff like this excuse. Oh and this is a response to somebody's review, I'm sorry but I do not have a Tumblr. I _did_, but then I was really dumb and did some stupid shit (scuse my French) cuz I totally thought I'd NEVER be caught HAHAHAh ah haha a nope. My parents made me delete it, but it was all for the good of me. I'd probably be really dead now grade-wise with school if I still had it. Once I'm 18 I can get a new one. NOW PREPARE FOR THE FEELS.

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All spirits were connected to children. It didn't matter if you were a Guardian of Childhood or not, all children mattered to you. They were the reason they all existed-each individual light needed something to believe in, and make them happy and protect from the harshness of the world, at least until they were ready and transferred into adulthood.

So it was no surprise that when Pitch felt a sharp pain in his chest, he automatically went to the nearest spirit, Anna Fall-the seasonal spirit of Fall; she cooled the air from the humidity of summer and gently touched leaves and changed them to beautiful colors-all in preparation for Pitch to come along and bring winter with him. Anna had been having fun with a child, having the Wind blow leaves around for the small tyke to chase after, and was standing still, with a hand to her chest, when Pitch reached her. They both shared a glance and allowed the Wind to carry them off, too in shock from that shot of pain.

As far as any of them had known, the feeling was a new experience. It was not akin to the pain of falling and skinning a knee or getting a cut on your finger. It was a pain you felt when you know you let somebody down; _when you didn't protect them._

They both touched down where the Wind brought them, Burgess, PA. They found themselves in front of a house, an ambulance in the driveway with lights flashing. Not a moment later a stretcher came from the backyard, and the two seasonal spirits gasped at who lay there.

Many cuts littered the boy's body, and bruises were starting to form on his face, and they both felt a lurch in their stomach when they saw the unnatural angle his right arm was in.

Pitch felt Anna turn away, a hand to her mouth, while he tightened the grip on his staff. He could understand how shocking this must be to her, she was fairly new still-just ten years into her immortality-which was nothing compared to the centuries he'd endured and all the sights he'd seen.

He carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately waved away.

"I-I'll be fine, just-not what I had been expecting."

They both watched as the child was loaded into the vehicle, the sounds of doors slamming close and a shrill siren filling the air for a minute before silence fell again.

Neither said anything-what more was there to say?

One of the spirits had attacked Jamie Bennett, it was just a matter of who that had ignored the one law all spirits held.

A gasp came from Anna, and Pitch looked to where she pointed and he let out a quiet gasp too.

From where the ambulance had been originally parked, a thin sheet of black sand rested. There was only one who used that sand.

A burst of light appeared in the sky and both spirits looked upwards, feeling a bit of relief when they say the famous red sleigh that belonged to North, one of the head Guardians. The Wind immediately picked both of them up, following after the jingling bells.

It was a total of twenty minutes before they got a sign of where the culprit was. It was hard, considering how much darker it had become-it was well into the evening before Pitch noticed a streak of black and shot a blast of frost towards it, a scream echoing in the night along with the sounds of a tumble into a ditch. The Wind gently set him and Anna down, the sleigh following not too long after. Other spirits of old, the Groundhog and leprechauns, other seasonal spirits and other holidays, even Frosty-a friend of Pitch's- had made the trip to watch.

To watch the trial of the Boogieman.

North and Bunny walked towards the trapped shadow, being stuck to the ground at his leg thanks to the winter spirit.

"Pl-Please n-n-no I-I-I-I-I did-didn't m-mean t-o I-I'M S-SO-SORRY NO-O PLE-PLEASE!"

He was roughly grabbed and yanked to his feet, ice shattering, and Pitch never felt sorrier for the poor spirit. He was shaking head to toe, his yellow eyes were wide in panic and fear, and his chest was heaving from all the previous running he did, leading up to where they were now.

He was held in place by the two Guardians, and he struggled in a desperate hope of escaping and hiding again, screaming how sorry he was and how he hadn't meant to do that to the child and for everybody to stop staring at him like he had killed someone, and was only brought to a hush when a bright light descended on everyone, seemingly laying a blanket of calm on the hectic chaos taking place before the Moon.

**Jack**

The shadow flinched as if he had been hit, turning his face up towards the moon, gnawing at his lip all the while.

**I will give you this one chance to explain yourself. It will not lessen or add to the punishment to be inflicted upon you, there is no escaping that. I know I speak for everyone present when I ask this. What? What was it dark shadow that made you riled up enough to harm the child?**

Pitch winced as he watched Jack go from stuttering out what had happened in a blind panic-how he had gotten angry because the boy believed in him yet held no fear of him and lashed out blindly at the foliage until he directed the anger unto the child-to dissolving into a mess of 'sorry' and 'didn't mean to' and 'please forgive me' between heart wrenching sobs.

He wanted to look away, away from the breaking sight and the inevitable punishment to come, but the entity of winter wasn't granted that luxury.

**For the crime you have committed, Jack Black, you are to be put into solitary confinement for four moons, and you are on probation and have possibility of being removed of your powers and given a mortal life should you so much as go near a child with the sliver of an intent to cause fear for three moons.**

The shadow stared at the ground, but nodded at the words said.

**Pitch Frost, if you would set up the confinement.**

He shut his eyes closed for a moment, knowing that it was neither a question nor a request. It was an order he had to carry out.

North and Aster stepped away as he stepped forward, stopping a few feet short of the slouched over spirit. Tired yellow eyes looked up, past black hair and hood, and Pitch hates how much of a stone-cold face he had to put up. There was no mercy to be shown to him. Jack had violated the one code that all spirits-good and bad-upheld.

_Never bring physical harm onto a child._

He raised his staff and slammed it into the ground, a dome of glass forming in an instant around the shadow. The ice was thick enough to last the time Man in Moon had appointed, and opaque enough for him not to see anything but his own reflection inside-not even the Moon or the Sun or the stars could pierce through it.

Every one made their way out of the ditch; Pitch having to get some help from Anna due to how much power was used to form the ice, and watched as Man in Moon created a type of fake cover over the ditch. Should anybody of mortality pass by, all they would see when looking in was an empty ditch, and even the spirits themselves couldn't see the dome of ice either.

**I pray that everyone has learned from this, and that such actions shall not be taken in the future.**

Everybody nodded grimly, each leaving to their duties, trying to forget the cries of the shadow and try to feel no sympathy towards him.

No mercy is shown to anybody that purposefully harms a child.


	5. Seen and Heard

**A/N: Oh gosh wow guys I am so sorry. This was kind of hard to do, but I DI IT I FINAL LY DI IT. It's also really long to boot. Also now I seriously need ideas if you guys want this to continue. Send in your ideas, I promise not to judge them or some such stuff. Just know I have my freedom to choose what I do and don't use. HERE YOU GO HAVE SOME MAMMA FRIKKIN PITCH FROST FLUFF.**

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He didn't remember very much about who he was before he became Pitch Frost. All he knew was what the Moon had told him and what all he had been able to remember on his own-which wasn't very much.

The Man in the Moon had told him that his name was Pitch Frost, and that he controlled winter.

His memories told him that he used to be called Kozmotis Pitchinier, and that he used to stand guard at a jail cell, preventing_ something_ from escaping, something not good, and how dearly he missed his daughter-Katherine. He remembered having to stand vigilant at his post, and could never see her, and stood there knowing he was protecting her from whatever lay dormant in the cell. He remembered how bitterly cold it was, and figured he had died from hypothermia and had frozen to death.

It drove on his every nerve how he couldn't remember anything else-_hated how he had left a life that hadn't been fulfilled_-and was left to roam the Earth for eternity, never to be seen by mortal eyes.

Many a time he'd have long, one-sided conversations with MiM, hoping to get something else to give him another purpose, besides bringing blizzards and snow days and nipping cold everywhere. He could never settle on the fact that this was his life now, and firmly believed that there was something missing that needed to be filled, and never would.

That was until he was made a Guardian.

It had been very impromptu; he'd been grabbed by yetis and tossed through a portal leading to North's workshop, where he had been told what had transpired. He had denied it at first, pleading to the Moon that being a Guardian wasn't going to fill up what was missing inside, that it was something vastly different than being a Guardian. He did help, since the children of the world had been in danger, more specifically-somebody he'd seen before.

The threat had been that Jack had lost control of the fearlings-he pitied the boy, he was still just a child and had been trusted with controlling some of the most dangerous spiritual creatures, and he had still been weak from the incident that had happened not just a half a year ago, when the shadow himself lost control of his anger and harmed a child- and the shadow wolves slowly started to attack the children of the world. Jack had tried to get them under control, but succumbed to his own fear and childishly left the mess for the Guardians to clean up.

He only hoped MiM was merciful to the shadow, and kept in mind how much of a child Jack still was. It had been hard when the spirit was put into isolation, by his own hands even, and he imagined that Jack was going to be looked down upon even more for the recent incident. It was a wonder what Manny had seen in Jack, to give him the powers he had, but nobody questioned the Moon.

The wolves had been close to succeeding in their take-over, but it was thanks to young Jamie Bennett that pulled through in the end, still believing in the Guardians-and even being Pitch's first believer. When Jamie had uttered his name for the first time, he'd realized what it truly was that he needed filled.

A believer.

Though he was happy he had one in Jamie, it still didn't fill the recognized need. That was when he had come across Jack. He had been angry at the entity, until he told him dire news. His fearlings had spread far out, completely covering the entire continent of America, and Jack had recently been in Nevada-trying fruitlessly to see if he could do anything to corral the creatures. He claimed that a familiar figure to both of them was there, but was going back to New York for some reason and was about to leave.

He hadn't given it a second thought, leaving the child that Jack had hurt before alone with him, but he reassured himself with how Jack had reacted to his own blind actions that he wouldn't dare have a thought to even touch the boy, and had the wind rocket him to the Big Apple.

He'd last seen her climbing into a moving truck and leaving her past in the streets of New York, and personally he'd seen it as her leaving him. It had been a ridiculous thing to get even slightly upset over, but he had felt a connection towards her. He remembered looking into that apartment after hearing her young cries, on what he had assumed was her first day home, and how much he had envied the father inside-wondering if he had ever done the same with Katherine. He'd seen her grow up and what all had transpired inside those walls.

That had been close to a year ago, the day she and her father picked up and moved on, and he wasn't sure what to expect the fearlings to do. But when he got there, it seemed as if the shadows didn't even need to be fended off.

He spotted the girl in Times Square, screaming at a woman who never flinched once, not a fearling in sight. Her eyes held an unimpressed gaze and her lips were in a thin line, and he swore he remembered her from somewhere, and that was when he realized that Tanya was screaming at the mother that had left her behind.

She was living her worst nightmare.

Once she stopped, her mother bid her goodbye and left her without sparing a glance back.

The teen stood there for a while, staring at nothing, with a look on her face that held something no child should ever feel. She began to walk off, and he followed her.

He kept a vigilant on her, into an alleyway but lost her there-a weird flash of light lingering among the trashcans and bricks by the time he got there.

It was then he had to reluctantly go back to Burgess, warding off the nightmares and restoring peace.

Afterwards, Jack had appeared back in Santoff Claussen, in the middle of the festivities of Pitch being inducted as a Guardian. The shadow's welcome hadn't been very heartwarming, being grabbed by yetis and having the Guardians staring him down had probably almost caused him to panic and leave, but he pushed aside his own fear. He shakily apologized about the mess he had made, giving a stuttering promise that he'd never let it happen again, and said he had something to tell Pitch.

Which led him to where he was now, sitting upon the roof of whom he hoped resided Tanya. It was the middle of the day in Nevada, so he assumed she was off in school. When he first arrived, the heat had been so close to literally melting him, but luckily he'd been able to whip up a storm to cool things off. It was still too hot for snow to form, so all that would come down was rain, but he held off any and all precipitation-thanks to the newfound power he had gotten from his band of first believers. He smiled at the picture that appeared in his head, watching Jamie and his friends wave them off as they flew away in North's sleigh. It filled him with joy beyond belief that he could finally be seen, but he was just shy of having that need deep inside him being filled.

He only hoped that he could make the teen believe.

It wasn't until evening he spotted the familiar girl come down the street, riding on a cherry red electric scooter, and felt a welling of anticipation inside his chest. He jumped off the roof, landing softly in the backyard, and moved to stand in front of the window he anticipated was Tanya's. He watched as she came in, tossing her school bag on her bed and running a hand through her-hadn't her hair been longer when he last saw her?

The fine blond hair had now been chopped in an angular bob, longer towards the front, with the shortest length reaching to the nape of her neck.

From what he remembered, she would go on and on to her friends about how she hated short hair, and promised to keep her own past her shoulders, and he couldn't connect how that could've changed. He watched as she picked up her ringing phone and answered, and slightly cracked open her window so he could listen and see if the call could help.

"-just fine, the only reason I left early was because I didn't want my Dad to worry-especially after what happened last night. . . No Miko-do you really have to pull this over-worrying act? Remy's here and will make sure I don't go grabbing a pair of scissors, I'm pretty sure he even hide all of our butter knifes—Nope. Do not go questioning how he could do it. He has his mysterious, mute ways-"

His eyes widened and he stiffened.

She. . . couldn't have. . . could she?

He was brought out of his shock when the window closed, catching the teen walk towards her bed as she rubbed her arms

Guilt flooded his being. He should've pursued her more. Maybe if he had followed, whatever had happened to her probably wouldn't have happened and now he was squinting through the glass and trying to spot any scars along her arms and all he felt like was a failure.

A failure to save Tanya.

A failure to save a child.

He pressed his lips together and prayed that the Moon would bestow some extra power in him to do the impossible to a spirit.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Tanya sighed as she pulled her bag off of her bed, flopping down onto it. Today had been very rough, what with every one of her friends asking her constantly if she was fine, if she needed anything, all while trying to keep things as normal as possible at her wish, but she had felt like everybody was treating her as if she'd broken both of her legs.

She loved her friends, but she hated being suffocated just as much. That was probably what had driven her to staying quiet about what her mother had done.

Why had her mother been there? Why had it been yesterday, of all days, that she had to face her past like that? All she could guess was that Fate played a hand in this, and that it was meant to happen or something like that. She frowned as she rubbed her arms, getting up to pull on a knitted sweater. It was very unusually cold in Jasper today, clouds hanging overhead that looked to be holding back a torrent of water-but something was keeping them from doing that.

The cold was welcomed though, she always had a preference for it over the heat. The cold reminded her of winter in New York, of snow on the ground and unique frost patterns on her windows. She smiled at the memories-of waking up after a night of restless sleep, and having her outside view on her window obscured by frost caking the glass in ferns, flowers, swirls, any and everything, and never repeated. They had always brought a smile to her face. She'd never found a way to explain how they happened, and only had her childish belief that somebody was out there and knew what she was going through, and only wanted her to be happy. She missed those more than she realized, especially now.

A soft crackling filled her room and she jumped at it, turning to the source. Her mouth dropped open at the sight before her.

Her window had frost on it. In the middle of _spring in Jasper, __**Nevada**_. And it wasn't plain frost. It was frost that brought back those many mornings, waking up and greeting Patrick good morning, and walking to the window and oogling at the frozen pictures left by something magical.

That same frost from the first morning it all happened, simple swirls of frosty ferns decorating it, covered the window that had been nowhere near cool enough to have a touch of frozen anything without melting in 5 seconds beforehand.

She hesitantly moved towards the glass, shakily pressing her hand on it and bringing it back just as fast, gasping at how cold it had suddenly gotten. Something beyond all reason was happening, and all she could think about was waking up one night, after a terrible nightmare, to the sound of Patrick's cries and answering them, only to feel like she was watched. She turned to her window and swore she saw a flash of somebody flying away from the fire escape, brushing it off a moment later as just seeing things.

She stood in silence, trying to make sense, when suddenly pictures were appearing on the glass, dots to represent snowflakes and two stick figures, one tall and one short, and three words were written off to the side.

'Pat and Tanya'

Her hands flew up to her mouth, eyes widening.

" . . . Who's there? Show yourself!"

Her words were left unanswered, the only response being more squeaking from her other window-now frosted over too- with words on them.

'Only if you believe will you see me.'

She squinted at the words. Believe?

"In who? Like, Santa?"

'Close. Try another name. People say I nip at your nose.'

She blinked and stepped closer to the window, placing a hand on it as that image of somebody flying away from the fire escape stuck itself in her mind. She shook her head and pulled her hand away, taking a few steps back.

"No. . . there, there couldn't have been. . . but how. . .?"

She shook her head again and rubbed at her eyes.

"This is all just because of the huge case of crazy I had the other day. I'm gonna open my eyes, and the window is going to be clear. There is no ghost or spirit or what-the-hell-ever that knows about me."

She stayed like that a bit more, just to make sure it would work, before putting her hands down and opening her eyes. She sharply gasped at what she saw.

The window had re-frosted over, erasing the words, and instead there was a drawing of a bird on the frozen glass. She was ready to scream anytime now, because she was either sick or somebody had snuck some kind of drug into her food or drink because this kind of stuff just never happened in reality.

Suddenly, the bird moved. But not across the window.

It moved _out_ of the window.

All of a sudden a bird shaped of frost was flying around her room, doing barrel rolls and weaving through some hanging decorations of hers and circling around her, and despite how she had been close to freaking out a moment ago, she found herself giggling.

She felt eight again, giggling and chasing after the magical bird, until it went out of her reach. Once it did, it burst into snow that slowly started to fall in her room.

She started at it in awe, reaching her hand out to catch a few flakes in her hand, bringing them back for her to watch melt.

A tingle radiated from the snowflakes that landed on her fingers, spreading out to go down her body and suddenly she was aware that _there was somebody else in there that wasn't there before._

It was a moment before she found herself breathlessly saying,

"Frost."

A sharp gasp came from behind her and she whirled around, hands flying to cover her mouth. Standing before her was a man, tall and pale holding a staff, with hope and wonder and longing evident in his blue eyes.

"That. . . that is me."

She blinked and hesitantly took a step closer, hands dropping slightly as she started to recall the name from so long ago.

"Frost. . . Frost!"

Her eyes widened as she took a step back, raising a shaky finger at the figure before her.

"You did that stuff on my window! Everyday you left something new on my window!"

His lips stretched into a smile, utter relief flooding his features.

"Yes. I knew they made you happy, and with all that you had to suffer at so young an age, I wanted to keep that belief in you alive. No child deserves anything like that."

He walked up closer, crouching down so he could look her in the eye better.

"I apologize for how stalker-like this will sound, but I have seen you grow up since you were first born. It was accidental, but after your mother. . . "

She stiffened at the mention, not just because of her mother, but of everything else. He'd actually known her since day one? Watched her grow from a baby to now? Her heart dropped when she realized something.

". . . After that, I only wanted you to stay a child, and not to grow up too fast because of your sibling. You always loved the different things I would make from frost, so leaving you a window of ice was the best thing I could do to help you remember the awe of being a child. That is something that can never be taken back."

"I. . . I never saw you though. . . after all you've done for me, and never once did I see you until now. . . "

"I have grown used to it. It was not until recently I was seen by somebody else. You are my second believer."

He smiled again, raising a hand up to brush a few snowflakes off her shoulder.

"That is all I could have ever asked for."

She stared as she felt the burn of tears ebb at her eyes. She was just now fully realizing what this all meant. Her whole life, and including whatever amount of time before her, this spirit before her was alone and invisible to everybody. She couldn't stand being invisible for an hour, and thinking of all the quiet he must have suffered and how she wished she had believed sooner because nobody deserved to be alone for so long.

Without thinking she had reached out and wrapped her arms around the spirit, holding him tight. He stiffened automatically, but after a minute he hugged her back, melting into it.

"I'm sorry. I should've seen you sooner. I should've believed in you faster. Nobody deserves to not be believed in. Nobody."


	6. Cry for Help

**A/N: Hey guys long time no see! I get out of school in less than a week and three days, so I've been busy in making sure to wrap up all school stuff. I also have an account on AO3, I transferred Switcheroo over to there, but I'm keeping this account here. There is gonna be stuff I'll exclusively put on AO3, so make sure to be checking out both if you're interested! I also got this prompt from Kadge Rose-Feather, so if you want any more from Switcheroo drop a suggestion in the review box! **** "Jacks sick of only being able to make people have nightmares and sick of people being afraid of him. He finds Pitch and asks to join the guardians, but Pitch tells him that the moon picks the guardians and it isn't that simple. Jacks heartbroken and in anger tries to go and make some kids have nightmares but Pitch stops him none-too-gently"**

The Moon shone down onto the land, with as much it could do in its waning phase, making the water on a familiar pond shine and glisten. The forest the pond resided in was silent, but not a peaceful one, or even a tense one at that. It was a sobering silence; one that came after someone suffering with depression got home after a tiring day and wanted nothing more than to fade away. In this case, Jack was that someone.

Jack sat curled up on rocks surrounding the pond, doing the one thing that he hated but always came back to, like an addiction. Thinking.

He thought of a lot of things, like of what to do next or who the next person he'd be giving a nightmare to, and those things were fine. It was when he started to think about how things could be different, or even better for him, that he hated the most. At the moment he wanted to think of nothing, especially after the last person he'd have to give a nightmare.

Paul was twenty-two and majoring in graphic design, and when Jack had dropped in the poor guy had fallen asleep at his desk in the hopes of finishing up a project for his classes. When he'd sent the stream of black sand, he hadn't expected to see what he saw. He'd expected some nightmare involving those popular horror games everybody was playing, or even something about him appearing in class with no pants, but of course it was the exact opposite, far opposite, of what he had expected.

He'd forced himself to watch as the black sand turned into Paul reliving a memory, when he was seven and being touched then raped by his then eighteen-year-old female babysitter. Paul had sweated and tossed and screamed and Jack left with sorrys leaving his lips at a mile-a-minute.

Jack finally got the courage to sit up and stare up at the Moon, breathing heavy with some indescribable emotion in an effort to keep the tears at his eyes from falling, and asked Manny the one thing he'd ever ask throughout his three hundred years of immortality.

"Why?"

Moon only continued to provide what little light it could give. Jack's eyes hardened as he stood up and glared at this acclaimed 'Leader', snapping at it,

"Why did you do this to me?! You should've known I was not meant for something like this! I-I hadn't even finished puberty when you yanked me from this pond! I'm sick of it!"

He stopped and panted, still glaring at Manny as he reached a revelation.

"I'm sick of doing this to people, giving them nightmares and making them relive horrible things, like-like Paul! I made him remember when he was raped by somebody who was supposed to take care of him, and because of all the years you forced me to do all this, I-I couldn't even muster the ability to even _attempt _to help him! A-A-And I'm tired of the few people who can see me, being _terrified_ of me! _It's not fair!_"

He paused again, still clinging to some vain hope that Manny would finally talk to him, but when no response came he only glowered and hissed out,

"I was only sixteen when I died. . . and you forced me to scare people, and n-now it's all I know what to do. . . but really, you have no control."

He nimbly started to jump from rock to rock, to the highest one to try and put himself closer to the Moon,

"Since obviously you're not going to do anything to help. . . I'll help myself."

He glared at Manny a moment longer, to really let it sink in. For Manny or himself, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was taking his fate into his own hands.

Pitch smiled in content at the falling snow, keeping an eye on some Russian children playing around in it. He was only stopping by in Moscow for a brief moment, and was going to fly off on his way to a meeting with the Guardians. It was nothing of trivial matters, just a meeting where North wanted to hear from everyone, it was still something he had yet to get used to. Nonetheless he enjoyed them, in fact that was his overall attitude with being chosen as a Guardian.

He waved at the leaving children, and turned to leave. Then he was jumping back in shock at suddenly finding the 'Boogeyman' standing behind him, stock still and a white-knuckled grip on his staff.

Pitch blinked and flexed his hand around his own staff, preparing himself for fight or flight, preferably the latter. But he was shocked when Jack put down his hood, he usually kept it up to stay in shadow, but now Pitch could fully see the mop of onyx hair and bright yellow eyes standing out against the boy's ashen-like skin.

Jack continued to stare at the ground for a while longer before he made eye contact with Pitch. Pitch's heart twisted at the expression on the young boy's face, one of worry and apprehension and a feeble hope of something, and found himself smiling as he asked,

"Good to see you Jack. Did you need something from me?"

The shadow jumped slightly at being addressed, and fidgeted with his staff some more, but kept eye contact as he shakily responded,

"I-I-I wanted to a-ask you something."

Pitch nodded, stepping up closer and motioning for Jack to follow him, and started to walk off. He did this in hopes of easing the shadow, and to ensure that should things take a turn for the worst the nearby population wouldn't be affected.

They walked in silence for a while, until Jack blurted out,

"I want to be a Guardian."

The Guardian stopped in his tracks, staring straight ahead before looking down to Jack. Jack only stared back with his bright eyes, scared but determined for an answer. Pitch had to take a few seconds to process what he said and blink before he found words.

"Be a. . . Guardian? Jack you must understand you do not just _choose _to be a Guardian, you have to-"

"I don't care."

". . . You have to earn it Jack. It is not just a title, it is an-"

"_I said I don't care._"

"Being a Guardian is an honor, and a hard one to achieve. You cannot just walk in and demand to be-"

"I'm sick of it!"

Pitch stopped and stared at Jack, not having expected the other to snap like that. Jack was now breathing heavily and looking at him with a look of hurt.

"I'm sick of scaring people, of people fearing me, I never wanted that! _I just want to belong!"_

Pitch frowned and sighed, offering a hand out to the boy.

"You were unlucky to get such a position of power, and I am sorry for that. But demanding to become a Guardian will not do anything to help."

Jack ignored what he said, finally turning away and stating crisply,

"If you're not going to help, I'll do it myself."

With that Jack broke out into a run and disappeared into a shadow casting off from the foliage of a tree.

Pitch cursed under his breath and quickly took out one of North's snow globes, figuring flying wouldn't be fast enough. He shook it and called out for North's workshop and threw it. The globe burst in the air into a portal, and Pitch jumped through it, seeing nothing but sparkles and light swirling colors before landing in North's globe room, the giant globe with the twinkling lights turning slowly before him.

"There you are Pitch, we were starting to get worried-"

Pitch jumped and perched on the railing, head sweeping around at everywhere shadows were. He felt rude for ignoring Toothiana, but he had to make sure he'd beaten Jack.

"Something wrong mate? You look a bit hurried."

After he was reassured that he'd beaten the shadow, he turned to his other fellow Guardians to address them quickly.

"I was in Russia doing my duties, but then Jack approached and said he wanted to be made into a Guardian."

The reactions were immediate. Tooth's feathers fluffed up in shock, Sandy started shaping and re-shaping his sand faster than even Tooth could be able to decipher, North called out to his workers to secure the workshop, ensure that the spirit couldn't get in, and Bunny went into a ranting rage.

"_Jack Black?! _He's the last spirit Manny would ever consider to be made a Guardian, what kinda drongo is he, he's got a Buckley's chance for anything even _similar _like that to happen to 'im-!"

Pitch held up his hands in an effort to calm everyone down.

"Stop, please! He is confused and lonely and just wants a chance for something better, though it is a very far reach for him. I tried to explain that it does not work that way, then he disappeared and I assume it was to-"

The lights flickered for a moment, effectively making everybody pause in their actions and start to look around frantically, searching for the shadow.

Suddenly Bunny threw a boomerang towards the staircases, and from the shadows Jack dodged the weapon, stumbling and tripping on the carpet. His head shot up to look at them as he scrambled to stand up, clutching his staff and warily holding it in a defensive stance.

"I-I guess P-Pitch told you why I'm h-here."

Bunny stomped up to the boy without hesitation, catching the boomerang he'd previously thrown.

"Bloody damn right you are, and it ain't happenin'. Now get o-"

"Please I have to! I have to prove to him that I can do it!" Jack backed away and hurriedly pointed up to the Moon through the ceiling hatch, whom had seemingly just arrived to view this spectacle.

Tooth frowned and zipped up behind Bunnymund, placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him back, casting a sorry glance at Jack.

"We're sorry, no amount of want or need will help you. Besides, Manny is the one that chooses-"

Jack's eyes widened in panic, and he frantically started to stutter out,

"D-D-Don't you have a-an oath or so-something?! _Anything?!"_

"We do." North stepped up to the child and solemnly looked down at him.

"But, only to induct whoever has been chosen by Man in Moon, and has proved their right to become a Guardian."

Jack frantically looked between everyone, trying to find some hint of 'Yes you can' or even something of acceptance, but only found downcast eyes.

He swallowed and bit his tongue, trying to push back the ebbing tears, and came to a decision.

"Fine then."

Everybody finally looked up; just in time to watch Jack pull back up his hood, his eyes piercing out from the shadows the fabric made.

"Might as well go do the only thing I'll ever do."

What was worrying was the tone his voice had when he spoke, coming off more as a firm statement; with a threatening promise hidden in it. In a flash he was gone, and Pitch suddenly realized what the distraught spirit would do. Without another word he jumped and called for the Wind, which blew in through the ceiling hatch and carried him out immediately, and asked his companion to follow after that shadow.

Jack appeared at a random street, somewhere in Italy, and immediately called up fearlings, and commanded them to hunt and scare every person on the cobblestoned road. Once they bolted off he disappeared again to another random street and did the same thing again, and again on the next street, and again, and again, and again.

The nightmares the fearlings were leaving were unspeakable horrors, of the Guardians portrayed in a negative light, the icons everyone knew and love were distorted to ugly creatures, and that was just what the Boogeyman wanted.

_If he couldn't be granted his one wish, he'd make them all suffer._

When he appeared onto another random street, before he could repeat his process a cold blast of wind knocked him down. Before he could stand up the hand grasping his staff was frozen to the ground, and he looked up to see Pitch standing there, looking more menacing than he'd ever seen.

"We told you. Repeatedly. You cannot be a Guardian."

Jacks eyes widened and he started to scrape at the binding ice in vain, only for Pitch to approach and break the ice himself, grabbing Jack by his hood and lifting him to his eye level.

"You have gone too far. Leave. Never take such foolish actions again. Are we clear?"

Jack nodded the best he could through his hyperventilating. The Guardian dropped him, and the shadow took in deep breaths, mentally calling off the fearlings in his mind.

He bolted before he got hurt again.

The Moon continued to shine onto the pond as the cries of a lonely shadow went unheard.


End file.
